Nunca me dirão quem sou

As noites de verão da infância de James Agee, 1915 - "in the time that I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child." Pequena cidade do Tennessee, endredom estendido no gramado, deitado olhando as estrelas, "All my people are larger bodies than mine, quiet, with voices gentle and meaningless like the voices of sleeping birds... One is my mother who is good to me. One is my father who is good to me. By some chance, here they are, all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth, lying, on quilts, on the grass, in a summer evening, among the sounds of the night."
"After a little I am taken in and put to bed. Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her: and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am."

Esse texto me arrepia toda. Uau.